


13th

by SuperlockianHobbit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Character Death, Death, Feels, M/M, References to Supernatural (TV), Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperlockianHobbit/pseuds/SuperlockianHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 7 one-shot: Castiel's death pushes Dean past the breaking point, causing him to resort to excessive drinking to try and cope with his pain. Through his drinking, Dean manages to find his angelic companion, but with a toll that the hunter unintentionally takes at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	13th

"That's your thirteenth one today," Sam announced from across the room, watching his older brother uneasily. Dean ignored him and chugged down the last drops of the whiskey before clumsily dropping the glass, a chip appearing along its side.

"I don't fucking _care_ ," he groaned, his voice practically unrecognizable with the rasp it acquired from weeks of drinking and strenuous crying. The hunter buried his face in his hands, digging his nails into his scalp. Sam hovered by the doorway, hesitant to say anything so as to not upset his brother even more than he already was. 

In truth, Cas' death was a serious loss for him too, and the emotional toll was a severe one. But even then, their friend died nearly four weeks back. At this point he was able to start progressively recovering from the whole ordeal.

For Dean it wasn't that easy.

_After spotting the black remnants of the angel floating in the lake, mere moments after the Leviathans had been let loose into the sewage pipes, Dean felt his heart drop. Cas was gone, and despite the fact that Dean was probably one of the last people to blame, he acted as if he himself had murdered his friend._ _  
_

_In that moment the hunter lost all common sense and frantically bounded into the lake, screaming the celestial being's name. Once he reached the tattered, yet still-floating trench coat, the hunter grabbed it, his knuckles turning bone-white from his grip on the garment as he desperately searched the murky water for any sign of a body, or even a limb. But there was nothing left._

"I'm going to the store, gotta get something to eat," Sam began. "Anything you want?" he asked. "Maybe some pie?" he insisted, a small smile creeping up on his lips. Dean looked up at him and met his gaze with an antagonizing look; his eyes were bloodshot from sleep deprivation and gross amounts of alcohol consumption, the bags underneath his eyes deep purple and swollen. Sam pursed his lips and nodded curtly, averting his brother's gaze quickly. "I'll...be back soon. Get some rest, Dean," he said as he awkwardly eased out of the doorway and shut the door behind him.

Dean didn't give a rat's ass where Sam was going, not that he didn't care about his brother, but because he'd been so worn down with, well, _everything._ At this point he just couldn't get himself to give a shit about anything, even if he tried to.

Despite the thousands of close calls, near-deaths, and people lost up until now, Dean's mind only just now began to realize how shitty his situation—his _life—_ was. First, he lost his dad, then went Ellen, and Jo, Ash, Adam, and even Sam at some point. So many people, family, and friends died because of the Winchesters' interference with their lives. And in the end, _Cas._

"Oh God, Cas..." Dean muttered dejectedly, feeling a familiar burning sensation at the back of his eyelids. The hunter couldn't stop the silent sobs when they came, sending violent tremors throughout his body. He couldn't reign in his emotions anymore, couldn't hold anything back.

Dean wedged his palms into his eye sockets, trying to restrain the tears which seemed to have no end. He sighed heavily, easing into the couch and resting his back against the cushions, his efforts of suppressing the crying proving to be in vain as his vision began to blur.

"God damn it, he's gone... _gone._ " Dean looked to the side desperately, his eyes locking on the chair nearby. Hanging on the chair was Castiel's scavenged trench coat, the collar still rimmed in tear stains from yesterday's breakdown. But the Winchester couldn't have cared less, and he quickly staggered to his feet and stumbled over to the garment. He grabbed the coat and plopped back onto the couch, holding it in a deathly grip as if it would be taken from him too if he didn't hold it tight enough.

The hunter unfolded the coat drunkenly, slowly pulling it around him like a blanket. He sat like that for several minutes, until a sudden tightness started in his chest. Dean cursed and motioned to get up, but was stopped by the feeling of needles piercing his heart. His eyes widened, and he sat motionless as he felt his heart rate increase significantly, the air around him thickening by the second. It grew more and more difficult to breathe, and Dean began to grow panicked at the fact that he couldn't do anything to stop whatever was happening. He subconsciously pulled Cas' coat around him tighter, trying to focus on something else in the room and will the newfound pain away.

Suddenly time itself seem to slow down, and everything in Dean's surroundings faded to black. Just as quickly as the sensation started, it immediately subsided.

Dean blinked several times, and once he regained his vision he realized the room around him seemed to be glowing with radiant light. Every single object in the room had the brilliance of diamonds and pure gold. 

The man suddenly grew self-aware of the lack of his amplified emotions and drunken stupor. For what felt like the first time in years, he felt amazing _;_  his mind was clear of guilt-plagued thoughts and his body felt light, he felt young again.

The door to the room opened abruptly, and Dean caught sight of something standing in the doorway in his peripheral vision. He turned his head to look, only to find himself having to raise his arm to block the intense energy the thing was emanating. Eventually, the hunter's eyes somewhat adjusted and he was capable of squinting through the rays of light.

Dean came to realize that the object in front of him was not simply energy, not just mere light. It had an outline, which progressively conformed into a human figure the longer he stared at it. 

As if someone had flipped a light switch, the room stopped glowing, everything returning to its initial sheen and pigment. Dean was back in his room at Bobby's. 

But the figure remained in its place. And now, Dean was finally able to see what, well, _who_ , it was.

The breath hitched in the man's throat, his heart acquiring an anxious tremor. Dean's eyes involuntarily grew wide, his limbs slackening.

Castiel stood in the doorway, looking polished and composed. The lines of concern and stress that had been etched into his vessel's face from the years the angel spent in the company of the Winchesters were gone; he looked great for someone who died. The angel was wearing his trench coat, and when Dean looked down at himself, he saw that the one he'd scavenged was gone.

"Is it...is it really you, Cas?" Dean asked quietly, slowly rising from the couch. The celestial being didn't utter a word, his expression completely blank; moments later, he nodded. The Winchester inched towards his friend, unsure if the sight before him was real. When he was only three feet away, Dean was able to fully see every single detail of the angel, from the glint of his baby blue eyes to the light scruff scattered across his jaw, and he felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia override his composure. Sighing in relief, Dean rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Cas' shoulders, catching him in a tight embrace. He felt the angel tense at first, but eventually he returned the gesture, somewhat hesitantly.

"I really fucking missed you, man," the man chimed. "Welcome back." He was the first to pull away from the hug, and he placed his hand on Cas' shoulder, a wide grin plastered across his face. 

The celestial being, however, didn't seem to be as enthusiastic. Instead, he seemed aghast, his eyes wide with what appeared to be shock as they searched Dean's beaming ones.

" _What have you done_?" the angel demanded, his gruff voice grave and thick with fear.

The smile faded from the hunter's face, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He squeezed Cas' shoulder reassuringly, his questioning gaze intently reading his friend's face for some sort of explanation.

"I don't underst-"

"I'm...," Castiel paused, averting his friend's glare. He pursed his lips tightly and glanced down at his feet, unable to emit the rest of the sentence. Moments later, he finally looked up, meeting the other man's eyes. "I'm not alive."

Cas' words sank in almost immediately, and Dean's hand fell from the being's shoulder, his body growing numb as realization settled in. He could do nothing but stare at Cas as reality itself seemed to come crashing down around him.

"Dean, you're-"

"...dead."


End file.
